Artorian's Archives Omnibus

by Dennis Vanderkerken

  He exhaled the word more than spoke it. “I distinctly recall first light being mentioned. It’s dark.”

  Without missing a beat, the oldest girl clamped her hand firmly on his shoulder; he was, after all, still very much laying down. “No. First light is when we leave. Didn’t you get my message?”

  The old fool did recall a youngster pointing at him, but the contents of the late-night whispered conversation had been… vague. It was far too early to pull one over on him, but given there were… he counted breaths.

  Five. No, six of the children here? The chances of him having a peaceful day were nil. Especially since they were going through with this awful plan that involved effort, being up, and walking. Oh, he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

  With a supported push, he sat up. A nagging pull involuntarily tugged at his lower jaw, eyes closing as a yawn loudly stated its presence. With a grunt and a rise, he long-stretched his arms above him. “Do I even have time to wash and eat?”

  He asked flatly and as matter-of-factly, his face full of a matching expression. The female group leader chimed her confident voice up again—clearly she had put the other rascals up to this, “Pail of water all ready, and we’ve all got sacks stuffed with leftovers, and the occasional stick and rock. Because we liked them.”

  The Elder stood at attention with hands on his hips. “You’re taking innocent sticks and rocks out that far? How irresponsible! What if something happens to them? What if they’re lost or chip? No no no, none of that. I want all sticks and rocks on my table for safekeeping. They’ll be here when you get back, and you can pick them up after.”

  He scoffed and redid his belt so it was tied in a way he was pleased with, already moving the door while not being snippy about the excess bag-weight. He had tried phrasing it in a way that would make them leave the unwanted encumbrances behind.

  Sure enough, the kids didn’t like the idea of losing their favorite rocks on a long trek and did as they were told while the Elder took off at full stride towards the stream. The old fool frequently considered this trek the most difficult part of the morning as the incline got steep on occasions, but today, it was made with determination.

  The stream ran from the salt flats and surged inland, carving through the landscape in several locations. The awkward path of the water made a clean divide where a small hill should have been. It was exactly such a miniature cliff that was the slippery slope the kids kept trying to lead him across, so he avoided hills when he could. Taking the flattest and easiest route—even if that took the extra minute—got him there with minimal strain. Unfortunately, the stream wasn’t deep enough on the flat side, so each morning, he had to wade inward a little deeper than he liked for a proper depth.

  It took some doing with his body in the state it was, but nothing some strongly applied willpower couldn’t push him through on. As an additional bonus, the cliff sides served as decent sight blockers, and it let him wash in peace. As expected, the zippy, little squirrels effortlessly caught up to him.

  The pail was handed over, and the Elder yawned wide again, rubbing his eyes to glance in the direction of the apiary. Apparently, he was spotted doing so, as the eldest girl had her arms crossed and cleared her throat at him. Before he could question her, she just pointed at the bag of food currently at her feet. Why carry what you could put down, and why let the Elder make an excuse to wiggle away?

  “We’ll wait around here, Elder. In case you accidentally wander off.” Her voice was ironclad, confident in this plan of theirs.

  Resigning, he undid his Lazuli robe and gray gi where he stood and tossed the clothing over without folding them up. Old scars on him were plain to see, and they looked incredibly unpleasant up close. The oldest boy took the robe, but his eyes were locked on the injuries while his face contorted in phantom pain. The Elder was only wearing his pants, but even then, they could deduce some of the injuries went further down his sides and likely spread across the legs.

  The children were speechless from seeing those scars up close for the first time, so the Elder broke that uncomfortable silence, “Let the robes air, maybe beat them with a stick a few times to make the fabric breathe. I don’t know how well that robe handles much of anything yet.”

  The Elder was eerily thin, and his arm strained just from picking up the pail. While the old man didn’t make a sound, the children gained a glimpse of insight on why everything physical seemed so difficult for the older people in town. With a body like that, the Elder looked so frail that even the youngest boy could test the old man’s salt—and win.

  This wasn't enough to force them to reconsider this whole venture when their worry met the iron will of the oldest girl. She was holding firm, so they did as well. It was just the six of them, less than she’d hoped, but the usual crew was here. No. Make that five; the third girl ducked out and was going home without as much as saying bye. Not up for more of this, which wasn’t uncommon.

  She did leave her sack, though, so more snacks for the trip. That left the oldest girl, the oldest boy, the youngest girl, the youngest boy, and the mousy-voiced boy. Good enough, they were the core group anyway.

  They all heard the humming from their Elder as he waded deep into the stream where the depth of the water was significantly more noticeable. They could never discern what kind of song the humming was; they just didn’t know it.

  It was one of those things that came from outside of the village, and their curiosity craved answers. A few meaningful glances later, and all but the oldest boy who was taking care of the robes crouched and stalked closer to the song. They thought they were doing well!

  However, as soon as the first face came around the bend, the humming had already stopped. The youngest girl took a step back, eliciting glares from the rest of the crew. When she turned around her caught expression very clearly declared. “We’re abyssed.”

  “I so look forward to hearing what reason you all might have to sneak up on an old man bathing. Especially when it was specifically asked that old man wasn’t to be bothered.” The Elder’s voice was passive and flat, but it made all the children squeeze their eyes shut in defeat and copy the ‘got caught’ expression. An old sigh was easily heard.

  “I suppose it no longer matters; I can’t keep my secret spot hidden for much longer. I just about can no longer reach it anymore. Is everyone present?” His voice sounded defeated, a wet cough breaking up the way he was speaking.

  “No,” the oldest girl replied in defeat. There was no point in trying to hide anymore as the old voice continued.

  “Fetch whoever is missing, forget the bags, and leave your robes on the bank. What I’m showing you is under the water.” Confused but interested, the scampering happened fast as the aged voice recovered. The oldest boy was involved in a hurry and just followed suit with robes and bags in tow. The group carefully stepped around the bend, since there was only so much bank to keep stable footing on while the stream sharply cut one of the hills in half. They found the Elder breathing steadily, deeply, and with repeated practice.

  He interrupted himself when he saw the small ones, “Alright, ask.”

  His already tired voice got right to the point as he needed to use both his hands to lift the pail and drink. Warm salt water was great for bathing but not for drinking. Questioning gazes did the rounds, but they fell on the oldest girl, the de-facto voice for this little band. She gave in, unable to lie to herself that she did, in fact, have several questions.

  “You hum this song that we don’t know, and we wanted to hear more. But that’s not the question I want to ask anymore.” She steadied herself for the big one. “Are you… alright?”

  Even a child could tell that he was having difficulty just breathing. He was out of breath, looked like he was about to fall apart, and was using both hands to lift a simple pail. The aged man pressed his thumbs into the inner rim of the small bucket to set it down.

  “…No, my dear. I’m not.” He wasn’t looking at them; rather, he was stead
ily squinting into the water of the pail.

  “The song is a lullaby that I used to… sing,” he trailed off, mouth still moving to make the soundless words, “a long time ago.”

  With a stern breath, he put the container down and began wading into the water, stopping before the dangerous drop off approached as he wasn’t going to finish his answer about the song. He pointed up to the ridge and asked a flat question, “Does anyone recognize where we are?”

  Small eyes glanced, and the mousy voice chirped to life. “It’s where you fell.”

  The Elder nodded. “I always marvel at your memory.”

  Warmth fueled his smile as he saw the small boy crawl out of his shell from the praise. “When I fell that first time you all managed to trick me, the current swept me away. It pulled me under and under, and when I came up, I was in a cavern. I could breathe, and it wasn’t dark. What does that tell you?”

  The oldest boy was pumped up with energy and wonder. “Secret Cave!”

  Excitement replaced trepidation in the group, but the oldest girl narrowed her eyes. “How is a cavern not dark?”

  The Elder peered into the hidden depths of the stream, searching for an answer. “I don’t know, and I believe it’s time to pass that torch on. Perhaps one of you will figure it out. Perhaps the children after you. Consider it a trade for the bad news I’m about to give you.”

  The oldest girl had a strong guess what this was going to be about and seared the wound early. “You can’t make it to the forest, and you can’t give us our names.”

  Hearts dropped all around. The attention was on the conversation between their leader and their Elder, who continued the chat, “I’m terribly sorry, my dears. I cannot make it to the forest. I expect I would make it about halfway, if my memory serves me right, as I just can’t see how far it actually is. Your names, however. Well…”

  The Elder raised his head up and smiled at his children as he stabbed his thumb at the water below him. “Nobody listens to what they can’t hear. So… if I happen to be talking to myself while in an isolated corner where I can’t be overheard… perhaps the Fringe won’t be listening.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ideas bloomed in the sproutling’s thoughts. The plan was straightforward: make it to the cave, get the secrets, get home before morning meals. The old man just watched them with a pleasant joy as they put things together. He’d given them pieces of the puzzle, and even without being exceptionally prompted, he could tell they were solving the conundrum. They had wants just like any of the adults; using those to teach them sharp thinking was just good sense.

  “Can we make it?” the oldest boy asked as he stole a look at the deep water. It looked awful dark even as the first rays of sunlight struck it.

  The old man nodded with certainty. “You lot? Certainly. Myself? Maybe a few more times before I can’t hold my breath long enough.”

  Their Elder did some stretches. “Here’s what happens. Once you’re deep enough, the water is going to pull you. Specifically, it’s going to pull you down, and you’re going to get caught in a force of water that feels like you’re falling sideways. That stream spits you out into a cave. You’re going to feel like you’re going down, then up; then you’re going to hit the ground while water is rushing past you in a hurry. Steady yourself there. If you go further, you’re back in the stream, and it will spit you back out over there.”

  He pointed further to the next hill, the salt stream cutting that one in half as well. “It’s only a tiny bank of space you’ll have to move on—a wall to the left, crawlspace to the right. Crawl to the light, and you’ll be in the cave.”

  A detail came to mind that he swiftly threw in, “Oh, don’t eat the stuff that glows. Tried that. Couldn’t tell what was real for a week. Do not recommend.”

  His voice trailed off and waited for follow up questions. The mousy voice called, “So… we just hold our breath?”

  “Just hold your breath. There’s no swimming against that current once you’re that deep, so take a big one and keep your hands over your mouth once you lose your swimming direction. I would say it takes about… hmm. Maybe half a minute? To…”

  He’d lost them. They had no idea what a minute was. “This long, I’ll count in seconds.”

  He raised both his palms and moved his fingers one at a time until he’d moved every digit on both his hands three times. “Twenty to twenty-five fingers is normal, twenty if the pull is fast. However, so you’re not surprised in the future, I’ve known it to take thirty. Thirty seconds is half a minute. A ‘finger’, if referenced directly, is one minute, and a ‘hand’ is five minutes because that’s how many fingers you have.”

  The younger ones were afraid but couldn’t stop the older ones who had eyes full of lust for adventure. The Elder noted their hesitation. “I’ll go first. Ditch your robe. Just go in your pants. Extra cloth and weight really don’t help.”

  He motioned at a spot near the pail for all the things to be dumped and dove right on into the darkness with a splash. The children could see him swim straight down for the first few lengths of a person, and then with a sudden movement, the Elder was pulled to the side and vanished into the black.

  The youngest girl shuddered and was about to voice her concern as the oldest boy loudly plunged into the depths. Her words didn’t ever reach her tongue as the oldest girl followed the Elder. She turned in borderline panic to the younger boy, but he was filled with determination and taking deep, steadied breaths. He swallowed a big one and joined the other three. Now she was alone with the mousy boy.

  “Maybe we… should not…” she almost whimpered the words as daring teeth were flashed back at her in a sizable grin. Oh no. He was going to go as well. No, she didn’t want to be alone. The mousy boy took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Together?” His expression one of confidence and excited wonder. Her hesitant hand squeezed in return. Fear melted away as something akin to butterflies in her stomach bloomed. She wasn’t so afraid if she wasn’t alone.

  “Y-yes. Together.” In unison, they began taking deep breaths, and with a jump, they were gone in the stream as they swam to follow. The first gasp of air the youngest girl heaved as she broke the cavern’s surface was met by a strong grip on her arm. It pulled her to safety as she sputtered. Hearing another set of gasps right behind her, she saw the boy too was snatched to safety. Holding their breath had been mostly successful, but at least two of them were hacking up watery coughs.

  Support was ready for them. After a solid few breaths in the dim dark, they began crawling in the perhaps two-and-a-half-foot tall space in clear direction of some faint light. Once inside what looked to be a tall dome, they all pushed their backs to the wall, breathing deep and looking to one another with proud smiles. They’d all made it. Every last one of them. A round of chuckles went around the circle as the Elder managed a few words, “I would like to welcome you all to my little secret place.”

  The Elder raised his hands, motioning at the luminous, domed space. “It’s safe to touch that odd glowing moss, but again, don’t eat it.”

  Another series of half-laughs and chuckles did the rounds in memoriam to the courage it had taken to get here. The euphoria cut to pure silence as the Elder declared five names, “Lunella, Grimaldus, Tychus, Wuxius, and Astrea.”

  Everyone fell silent when the dome began to shudder, worriedly looking all around them as the walls thrummed and tremored. After what sounded like the thudding hooves of a stampeding herd passed above, the dome fell quiet.

  “Well,” the Elder’s voice rose with apprehension, “it doesn’t seem like the sky is falling on our heads. I’d say we’re clear.”

  The oldest girl snapped her head sharply at the flouting Elder as he’d spoken with such nonchalance. Her emerald eyes stabbed him with greater force than her words, but that was one of the traits that made her such a delight. “You said all of that and just hoped the Fringe was going to let you get away with it?”

  “Yes, Lunell
a. I just believed.” He sounded certain. In reality, he’d absolutely rolled the dice on that one and would never tell them so.

  The previously tense and miffed girl gasped as her hands went over her mouth. Was that her name? She adored it and was now trying to keep it together as her swiftly overwhelming emotions bubbled and fluttered. She hadn’t expected to actually get a name for several seasons. This had been her gamble, and it paid off wonderfully!

  The old man crossed his legs and swatted at wet pants; blasted cloth always got unpleasantly cold when he lingered here long. He’d bear with it. Pressing back against the wall, he saw her heartfelt reaction and extended his warmth with a delighted expression. “Do you like it?”

  Lunella nodded through her crushing emotions; it was beautiful. The mousy boy chirped up and nodded as well but was thinking about something else with some concern.

  “They all sound so strong. Does… does the Fringe have enough room for that many strong names?”

  The Elder *humphed* at the notion, arms crossing. “The Fringe can come complain if it’s dissatisfied at this point.”

  The retaliatory look in his eyes softened as it fell back on the poorly illuminated children. “I won’t be around for many more seasons. I have many fond memories of this village. It has some great places and sights, but they’re not what I love about it. The biggest secret I have is that what I love the most is all of you.”

  The kids felt fuzzy at the mention. “The joy you bring this old man with your clever little tricks and energetic playing around is a life of fulfillment I cannot describe. Watching you all grow has kept my heart beating. I might be a touch lazy, but waking up to find what trouble you’re going to get into that day is a hoot. Your lives are what gave this old man the will to keep seeing just one more day.”

  He rubbed the sides of his arms to warm up a touch. “So, I thought, and I thought. If I was going to give the few minds who I treasure most in this world anything, it was going to be the best names I could grant. The lengths I wouldn’t go to see you all healthy, safe, and in good spirits…” He paused to let out another rebellious *hmmpf*!